


you don't belong here, with me

by nicepeaches



Series: Oikuro Week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, OiKuro Week, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3360152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicepeaches/pseuds/nicepeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru is many things. Kuroo isn't sure what he wants him to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you don't belong here, with me

**Author's Note:**

> google docs ate half of this. twice. i almost gave up, but here it is, the obnoxiously late day two fic for uniforms/competition.

It's hot, sunny, there's a practice match against Seijoh, and Kuroo is excited about none of these things. 

The train ride to Miyagi is long and irritating. Kuroo mostly watches Kenma play that stupid Love Live game on his iphone, and he's stuck wondering how the hell Kenma's fingers are moving so fast, let alone how he knows where to tap the screen. Kuroo can't look at the screen for too long, he starts to feel sick. 

Kenma finishes the live show and the little 'full combo' text flashes on the screen. Kuroo is tempted to think that's a good thing.

"How the hell did you do that?" Kuroo asks, and Kenma takes out an earbud. 

Kenma shrugs and offers Kuroo the phone. "I don't know, you just kind of do it." 

Kuroo shakes his head and Kenma puts the earbud back in his ear. Within a minute he’s back at it, probably on his way to full-combo another fucking liveshow. 

The rest of the train ride is long and dragged out, and every so often Kenma will make this little dissatisfied noise in the back of his throat. He probably messed up his combo. 

—

Oikawa is late to the practice match. Kuroo is somewhat disappointed upon discovering this. He can’t imagine why; Oikawa is irritating and talkative and literally everything Kuroo hates in a person. There's more than a few interesting things about him, Kuroo supposes. 

And of course they're halfway into the game when Oikawa shows up, already sweaty and gross, surprisingly enough. Kuroo thinks he looks nice like that: with his hair disheveled and a determined fire in his eyes. Seijoh’s coach subs him in immediately. 

It’s exhilarating, playing against someone like Oikawa, who is so well-rounded and has the full force of every teammate at his back. Kuroo likes someone who can make him think: someone who won’t let the ball drop once it’s hit back over, at least not without a fight. Oikawa is that person, whether or not Kuroo wants him to be.

He barely knows Oikawa. He knows two things. He knows that Oikawa is good at volleyball and he knows that there’s a lot of things wrong with Oikawa. Kuroo isn’t sure exactly what’s wrong with Oikawa, but there’s definitely something wrong with his knee. Maybe his wrist. 

Oikawa moves like there’s nothing wrong, though. He moves on the court with the dexterity and poise of someone with not a care in the world, and receives almost effortlessly amidst the sea of chaotic shouts and calls for the ball. He knows what he’s doing, knows where to go before the ball even leaves the server’s hand. Kuroo has heard of how he wasn’t born with this talent: how Oikawa has fought tooth and nail to even come close to fitting into the role he currently plays. Kuroo is good, but Oikawa's skill level is greater than even that of Kuroo's, and Kuroo finds himself struggling to keep up more and more with every play. 

Kuroo doesn't know how he looks at Oikawa, doesn't know how he _wants_ to look at Oikawa, if he wants to look at Oikawa as anything more than a rival at all. He admires Oikawa, surely, but there's a part of him that believes that there's always been something more. The majority of Kuroo isn't convinced. 

“You’ve improved,” Oikawa says, holding Kuroo’s gaze. “You’ve improved a lot, Tetsu-chan." 

Kuroo doesn't know what he appreciates less, the compliment or 'Tetsu-chan.' "I've been working on my attacks. You'd best watch yourself." 

Watch himself Oikawa does. Seijoh wins the game by two points. Kuroo isn't upset. 

—

Kenma tugs on Kuroo's jacket while they're walking back to the station. "He's following us," he says, making a gesture with his head. 

Kuroo looks back and Oikawa is there, about ten feet back, staring nonchalantly at the sidewalk in front of him. He's in his warmup jacket and game shorts, and he probably still has his jersey on underneath. It's almost 32 degrees, and Oikawa Tooru is wearing a goddamn jacket. 

Kuroo nudges Kenma once they walk into the station. "I'll catch the next train," he says, and Kenma looks at him funny. "Go on, I'll text you when I get back." 

Kenma shrugs. "Don't get lost," He says, and walks away toward the ticket office. 

Kuroo keeps walking through the station and toward the café bathroom. It's so _hot_ , he's pretty sure Oikawa is still following him, and he has no idea as to why. 

He leaves the door unlocked when he goes into the bathroom, and while he's wiping off the sweat on his face with a paper towel, Oikawa walks in. The distinct _click_ of the lock sounds like a shout in the otherwise empty room. 

"What do you want? I missed my train because of you," Kuroo says, shutting off the sink and leaning against it. He's having trouble telling whether or not Oikawa's hair is messed up or if it just sticks up the way it does without Oikawa having to try. 

Oikawa smiles, smug, for whatever it's worth, and crosses the tile floor. He's still wearing his court shoes. _He's going to fucking ruin them_ , Kuroo thinks, bitterly. _Hell, he's probably already ruined them_. Oikawa's face is inches from Kuroo's now, and Kuroo thinks Oikawa is going to kiss him. He's oddly okay with that. 

Oikawa doesn't kiss him, though. "I'll miss you," he says, barely a whisper, and brings his hand up to lace his fingers into Kuroo's hair. "I'll miss playing against you. I don't like people who can't keep up."

"Is that so?" Kuroo laughs and raises an eyebrow. "I'll have to practice extra hard." 

"Yeah," Oikawa mutters, moving closer, and Kuroo can feel Oikawa's breath on his neck. "Extra hard." 

Kuroo wants to roll his eyes, wants to make it clear that no, that _was not_ meant to be a sexual innuendo, but his thoughts are cut short by the feeling of lips on his neck. Oikawa _bites_ , nearly breaking skin, and Kuroo _knows_ he's going to have a bruise there in the morning, if not later today. 

"Jesus, take it easy," Kuroo groans, more out of annoyance than anything else. Perhaps he's trying to downplay the possibility of his own arousal, but he's really not too keen on having to steal his sister's concealer, either. The last thing Kuroo needs is a rumor spreading around the entirety of the school. It doesn't take Oikawa very long to change Kuroo's mind, because almost immediately after abandoning the spot on Kuroo's neck, Oikawa moves to the skin just beneath Kuroo's ear and bites there, too. Kuroo sucks in a lot of air through his teeth. "Are you still wearing your uniform?" Kuroo asks, and he already knows the answer even before Oikawa reaches up to unzip his warmup jacket. 

Kuroo hasn't thought this through, and he thinks he probably should, because he might be about to let something like this happen in the bathroom of a fucking second-rate train station café. He’s not entirely sure he minds.

He doesn’t know why he’s chosen Oikawa, of all people, because Oikawa is likely the worst possible partner anyone could choose for anything ever. 

"You can keep up," Oikawa says, and his breath tickles Daichi's neck. "You'd better." Kuroo gives Oikawa a moment of pause and then grabs his shoulders, moving him backward. Oikawa stares at Kuroo, lips pursed and expression unreadable.

Kuroo kisses him. Oikawa doesn't move: maybe he's focused, maybe he's confused, Kuroo can't really tell. There's a split second where Kuroo can swear he feels Oikawa move against him, but maybe he's being overambitious. 

Oikawa's jacket hits the floor and Kuroo cringes, because _god fucking knows_ what's been on these goddamn floors. Oikawa reaches up and pulls his jersey over his head and Kuroo's breath catches in his throat because the extent of Oikawa's physical perfection extends far beyond whatever he'd previously expected. He's built as hell and Kuroo suddenly wants to put his hands all over Oikawa. He doesn't get the chance.

Oikawa is kissing him suddenly, all tongue and teeth, nails digging into the soft skin of Kuroo's forearm, leaving angry red half-moons in their wake. Kuroo takes a step backward and his back hits the sink. He kisses Oikawa harder, brings his hand up to press on the back of Oikawa's neck. Oikawa practically has his tongue down Kuroo's throat, licking into his mouth with an intense voracity, and Kuroo is glad his back is to the sink. His head spins and he produces the only sound he's currently capable of producing: a low, desperate groan. 

Oikawa seems to take the sound as some kind of permission to take this a step further and immediately releases Kuroo's forearms, moves his hands to Kuroo's hips and digs his thumbs into the space where Kuroo's hips meet his thighs. He doesn't tease for long, though; Oikawa has never been one to drag things out. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of Kuroo's sweatpants and wrap around his cock. Kuroo shivers and reaches down to pull his sweatpants down. Oikawa helps and looks far more enthusiastic about all of this than he has any right to be, if that's even possible.

"You're so pretty, Tetsu-chan," Oikawa says, and something in Kuroo's chest tightens. 

Oikawa doesn't ask the question he already knows the answer to. Kuroo doesn't know how much sexual experience Oikawa has, and he's not entirely sure he _wants_ to know. The moment Oikawa's lips wrap around Kuroo's cock, however, all of these concerns vanish and Oikawa is just Oikawa, there's nothing odd about him, he knows just enough about what he's doing to have Kuroo convinced that's he's probably sucked dick before. 

"Holy _shit_ ," Kuroo whispers. He finds himself at a loss as to where to put his hands, so he settles for lacing them into Oikawa's hair. He pushes Oikawa's head down further, expecting him to choke. He doesn’t. 

"Oh my god," Kuroo says, trying to abstain from biting his lower lip to keep quiet. Oikawa's thumbs are on his hips again, rubbing circles into the soft skin there. "Oh my _god_." 

Decency be damned, Kuroo finds Oikawa the most attractive when he's sucking cock. Hell, there is no _decency_ , there never was; he's on the receiving end of his first blowjob in a fucking public bathroom. There's nothing remotely decent about receiving a blowjob from your (apparently gay) volleyball rival. It's indecent but Kuroo is enjoying every living, breathing moment of the experience. 

Oikawa moans around Kuroo's cock and if Kuroo were paying more attention to literally anything else, he'd be tempted to further investigate if that is, indeed, drool on Oikawa's chin. He's not focused on that, though, he's focused on how dangerously close he is, how Oikawa isn't letting up or easing off, and how tightly his fingers are gripping the edge of the sink. 

He doesn't warn Oikawa when he comes, and he's not entirely sure Oikawa minds. In fact, Oikawa seems to revel in the way Kuroo takes his hands off of the sink to thread his fingers in the unkempt mop of his hair again. Kuroo groans and sucks in a bunch of air through his teeth, closes his eyes. He lets himself go, trying and failing to keep movement of his hips to a minimum. Despite this, Oikawa still doesn't choke as he digs his nails into Kuroo's hips and pulls him forward, taking Kuroo's cock even _further_. 

"God, Oikawa, I—" Kuroo doesn't get the chance to finish because he's suddenly thrown further into what he later believes to be the most intense orgasm he's ever had in his life. 

Oikawa looks disgustingly satisfied and Kuroo grabs him by the shoulder, pulls him up and kisses him, tastes himself on Oikawa's lips. "Unfortunately, I have a train to catch, and I still hate you," Kuroo says. "What's your number?"

Smiling, Oikawa replies with, "One. Just like you." 

It takes Kuroo a minute. "Stop. Seriously." 

Oikawa gives Kuroo his number. "You had better call me, Tetsu-chan," Oikawa says, as Kuroo reaches for the lock on the bathroom door. "I'll be waiting." 

"I know you'll be waiting," Kuroo says. "Make sure you wash your uniform in the meantime." 

He leaves without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> i was actually kind of nervous about posting this?? idk if i got across what i was trying to convey in the way i wanted to.. who knows ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> kenma is probably #1 at japanese love live ok fight me
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](iwaoii.tumblr.com)


End file.
